


Three Conversations About Dash X

by orphan_account



Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24566644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It could possibly be the weirdest encounter Marshall Teller has had yet.
Relationships: Marshall Teller/Dash X
Kudos: 17





	Three Conversations About Dash X

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at fic_on_demand for Froodle.

“Well, hello little paper boy,” said the man in the blue suede shoes, as Marshall walked out of the doors of the World O’Stuff. “How’s life been treatin’ you?”

Marshall paused, momentarily overcome by the weirdness. But instead of asking Elvis why he was sitting on a bus bench eating takeout Chinese food in his bathrobe, he walked himself over. “Sir? I was wondering if I could maybe ask you for some advice?”

The King stuck his chopsticks upright in the chow mein, and set the box down. “Girl trouble again? No problem, son. Always glad to help out a fellow traveler on the dusty road of love.” He was wearing bedroom slippers that matched the robe. Both had rhinestone buckles.

“Well, it’s not exactly… Well, it’s definitely not a girl. It’s more like a friend I’m having the problem with.” He scratched at his hair. “Only, he’s not really my friend… exactly. It’s kinda complicated, I guess.”

“Why don’t you sit a spell and tell me the whole dang story?” Elvis moved over on the bench to make room as Marshall sat down, still a little hesitant. He really had to talk to somebody, and the King was always a good listening ear, but he has still having trouble admitting what had happened.

Marshall took a deep breath, and rallied his courage. “This… this guy and me, we’ve hung out for a while. He’s not exactly Mr. Nice Guy, but we were okay. He was weird, but he was cool too, you know?” 

Elvis folded his hands and nodded sagely. “I get your drift. Go on.”

“I guess the main thing was I thought I could count on him. I was really starting to trust him.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But then I got into trouble, and he acted like a lousy creep about the whole thing and did stuff that made everything way, way worse,” Marshall gestured with his hands for emphasis.

“Ain’t much of a friend who kicks you when you’re down,” Elvis agreed.

“Yeah.” Marshall slouched back, crossing his arms. “He’s a bad egg, like everyone says.”

At this, the King looked thoughtful. “He say he was sorry?” he asked.

Marshall twisted uncomfortably in his seat. “That’s the problem part. I ran into him this morning on my route, and I think he was trying to apologize, or something. But he got really nervous and I think he… I think he tried to _kiss_ me.”

“Hmm…” Elvis looked a little surprised, but not as shocked as Marshall had expected. “I can see the problem.” He picked up his chow mein again and poked around until he came up with a fried shrimp.

“I’m mega-major confused.” Marshall had his hands to his head. Despite this, he felt better having confessed to somebody.

“Seems to me you ain’t the only one.” Elvis’s expression was sympathetic. “Might be a big mistake. Or it might be he’s been scared about lettin’ you too close. That could be why he’s been acting so ornery. He likely ain’t the type who likes being too honest with himself.” He gave Marshall a careful look. “Don’t you think you oughta give him a chance to explain?”

“Or might be doing it to mess with me,” Marshall groused, frowning. “To get back at me or, something. He’s pretty smart and he’s done some rotten stuff before.”

The King nodded. “It very well could be. Trouble is, I don’t know this fella who might or might not be a friend of yours. You got anybody else you can talk to and see if you can get another point of view?”

+++

“In my completely impartial scientific opinion, I think he likes you Mars.” The boy didn’t blink or twitch or show any other signs that he was joking. 

Marshall gaped. “Simon, I can’t believe those words just came out of your mouth. Do you realize what you’re saying?” 

The younger boy nodded. He was sitting cross legged on the floor of the Secret Spot next to a pile of comics labeled “Research Materials.” “Dash X, gray-haired mystery street kid, is exhibiting romantic feelings for my best friend… who, uh, happens to be you?” 

“Exactly! Doesn’t this weird you out? Doesn’t this make you mad or freaked, or something?” After confessing to Simon about what was possibly the weirdest event in his entire life, he really needed a little reassurance to keep his view of reality from warping beyond repair.

Unfortunately, Simon didn’t seem interested in giving him any. “Actually, it explains a lot. I was reading this book by this Swami guy who’s all about examining the disruption of your inner peace by irrational prejudices towards others.” He rifled through his backpack until he came up with a strangely familiar book. “It really got to the core of my issues with Dash. It turns out, I’m subconsciously jealous that he’s competing for your attention. And this backs it all up.”

Marshall was pacing the floor now, getting more agitated. “But based on what? The kissing stuff was like one isolated incident, and it was probably just an accident, right?”

Simon shrugged, putting the book back. “Well he seems to always be conveniently bumping into us, and he’s definitely got some hostility issues with you that this would explain. Plus there’s the whole vibe thing.”

“Vibe?” Marshall stopped short and turned around to stare at his friend.

“Yeah. The sparks, the tension, the intense mutual fascination…” Simon still wasn’t kidding. Marshall’s stomach lurched as panic gripped him. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. 

“But I’m straight!” he insisted. He was really starting to lose it now.

Simon grinned at him, unaware of his discomfort. “Yeah, I know. It’s a very comforting fact, I’ve gotta say.” 

“If Dash is gay, he can’t have feelings for a guy who’s straight!” Marshall yelled back. His whole face was turning bright red.

Simon tilted his head quizzically. “Are you sure about that?”

“Well, I don’t - but Dash can’t be gay!” Marshall was waving his arms frantically. “We’re in the middle of the Midwest! Gay guys are supposed to gravitate toward coastal areas like New York and San Francisco!”

Simon sighed, as if finally noticing how upset his friend was getting. “Mars, we’re in the center of weirdness for the entire planet. I think he’s got the benefit of a loophole here.” Calmly, he steered Marshall over to the work table and sat him down. “Besides, this is the 90s. The world’s a more tolerant place.”

Marshall buried his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe you’re okay with this. I figured that you’d…” he looked up at Simon, who was picking up the comics. “Hey, how do you know so much about this stuff anyway?” 

The boy rolled his eyes. “My Uncle Bernie chose an alternative lifestyle, so my parents explained it all to me last year when he came to visit. Cool guy. Only now he’s my _Aunt_ Bernie.” 

Chalk up another one for weirdness. Marshall’s world was upside down, and his seat didn’t have a safety harness. “What am I going to do, Simon?” he moaned. “I mean Dash appears out of nowhere, nearly kills me in an alternate universe, and now you think he’s got the hots for me?”

Simon sat down next to him, with his Very Serious Face on. “Marshall, if there’s anything Eerie has taught me, it’s that you can’t run from weirdness.” He patted him on the shoulder. “You gotta face it. Confront it, with courage and determination, and an open mind.”

“You’re right.” Marshall gave Simon a weak smile. I should take Elvis’s advice and talk to Dash. I can’t avoid him forever. I’ll just drive myself nuts.

“That’s the spirit!” Simon punched him soundly in the shoulder.

Marshall grimaced. “I’m still not gay, you know.”

“I know, Mars. I know.”

+++

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Dash X didn’t look up as Marshall walked his bike over, finished with his paper route for the morning. The gray-haired kid was slouching against the back wall of the World O’Stuff, eyeing him suspiciously.

Deep breath, Marshall reminded himself. “About the other day – “

“It didn’t happen.” Dash crossed his arms and stared Marshall straight in the eyes. “Whatever you thought I was doing, I wasn’t. Just forget the whole thing, Teller.”

“Uh.” He blinked in surprise. “Okay.” Marshall could have walked away right then, assured that all his worry and paranoia had been for nothing. Simon and the King had been wrong. It had been a misunderstanding, and that was that.

But all his experience exploring the unknown creeps and wonders of Eerie, had given Marshall Teller a second sense of sorts. He knew when there was something deeper to a mystery, and Dash X was giving off that… well, that _vibe_.

So, in spite of his serious misgivings, Marshall stood his ground. “Can I ask what were you gonna tell me?” he asked. 

Dash got a really funny look on his face, somewhere between scared and excited, and stared down at his shoes. For a minute Marshall had the crazy thought that the other boy might try to kiss him again.

“I went too far when we were on that studio set.” Dash looked up, biting at his bottom lip. “I let the dumb Hollywood stuff hook me. It got outta hand.” It was as close to an apology as Marshall had every heard out of the guy. It was probably the best he could do.

“No kidding.” Marshall felt a real sense of relief now. “I thought you were really going to shoot me.”

“I was.” Dash smirked. When Marshall glared at him, he put up his hands. “But not to kill you or anything! I was going to aim for the legs.” 

Marshall didn’t think it was funny. But it was Dash X to a tee. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

Dash shrugged, sticking his hands in his coat pockets. “Yeah, well I’ve got a delinquent rep to keep up, Teller. Can’t let people start thinking I’ve gone soft.” 

He still looked tense, like there was something else on his mind. But he didn’t say anything until Marshall started to turn away with his bike.

“I’m not in love with you or anything,” Dash said, his voice cracking just a little. 

Marshall stopped short, and looked back. “Of course not.”

Dash was back to slouching, looking ticked off at himself for having said anything. Marshall was completely weirded out again, but he also felt kinda bad about it. He knew being weird wasn’t something you could help.

“Hey, Dash?” he tried to sound casual. “You want to come over for dinner tonight? Mom bought in bulk so she’s going to cook too much anyway. Simon’ll be there.”

Dash cracked half a smile. “I guess so. This means I’m Cousin Dash again, right?”

Marshall couldn’t resist. “If anyone asks, just tell them you’re Aunt Bernie’s kid.”

+++

The End


End file.
